


911 Call

by romanticalgirl



Series: Police Codes [1]
Category: Southland
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck the Police.</p>
            </blockquote>





	911 Call

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Seriously, this is pure porn. I used to write stories that at least pretended to have a plot, but I don't bother anymore. For [](http://hackthis.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://hackthis.livejournal.com/)**hackthis** who was supposed to get comment porn, and instead got eight pages of this.
> 
> Originally posted 8-10-09

The first day he works with John Cooper, Ben goes home and jerks off for an hour - keeping himself right on the edge for as long as he can before he has to give in to the need, the throb of his dick and come all over himself. He's a mess, come everywhere, and he doesn't care. He just lies there, not even fully undressed, and keeps stroking his cock until he can't take it anymore, then he sucks his fingers clean, wishing like fuck it was Cooper's come he was sucking down.

That lasts for about three days and then it's not enough. Ben's fantasized about guys before, but he's never done anything about it, but Cooper's in his head and he doesn't know how to get him out. Doesn't know that he wants to. Between the calls and the adrenaline and the mind-numbing boring stretches of shit, he watches Cooper and listens to him and tries to learn instead of wanting to do things that are almost enough to make him blush. He drives around for two hours after his last shift of the week, aimlessly, he thinks, until he ends up at a grocery store and buys whiskey, eggs and two bottles of KY. He gets the specialized brand - the one made especially to enhance her pleasure - not because he cares if the clerk thinks he's fucking women, men or goats for that matter, but because he's never gotten far enough in thinking about guys to really, honestly think about something up his ass.

Just the thought of that - Cooper's dick buried inside him - makes him hard, and the ride home is excruciating. Every bump and jolt of the bike makes his dick throb and he's barely inside the door before he's digging through the bag for the lube. He breaks the eggs, but he doesn't care, just strips out of his clothes right there and lubes two fingers up, going too fast and feeling the hard burn as he pushes them inside. It aches and his cock deflates slightly, so he drops back to one and works his way up, panting and thrusting into the air until he comes all over the Persian throw rug his mom bought him as a housewarming gift. He has rug burns and his ass burns, and he wants Cooper more than ever.

It takes him another week to break down and buy a dildo. He's managed three fingers and watched more porn that he has the entire rest of his life, stroking his dick and riding his fingers, lying on the floor like some sort of desperate, wanton whore and moaning John's name when he comes. He's got a vast array of downloaded gay porn, all of it involving cops or Marines and he's found two actors close enough to John that he watches them and imagines what it would be like if John were doing that to him - licking his ass, sucking his dick, squeezing his balls, pinning Ben to the wall. Riding in the squad car is like fucking torture, and he jerks off in one of the bathroom stalls before he showers after the shift, because he's not sure what he'd do otherwise.

Bad enough that he watches John in the shower, that he watches his hands move over his body and rub every muscle, rest on his lower back as he arches it and stretches. Ben knows as much about John's body as he can from the distance of several showerheads and the passenger seat of the car, and when he finally goes to the shop, he knows exactly what he wants.

It's blue, which is bad enough, but it's called the 'Cop Killer' and it's big and thick and almost what Ben wants. As close as he can get to John's dick. He buys it without comment and the clerk doesn't look at him at all. He buys more lube and hurries home, needing it far more than he wants to admit. He's learned, but he doesn't care, and takes it too deep too fast. His ass burns and he gasps, but it's the right kind of pain and he manages to get it deep inside him. He sits on the arm of his couch, legs straddling it and rocks backward, taking it deeper as the movie on his TV shows the John look-alike bending his partner over and handcuffing him before eating out his ass and then fucking him until he confesses to something - anything, Ben doesn't care - and then he pulls out and comes all over his partner's back. Ben doesn't last that long, he's too far gone before he's even got the cuffs out, but he watches it all, shuddering from the pressure against his prostate and stroking himself with his own come.

Every step the next day aches and burns in ways Ben didn't know were possible. He feels like he's been ripped in two and stitched back together with dental floss and a hypodermic needle. Cooper gives him shit the entire day and running after the perp who broke into the fucking convent and stole the wine chalice makes him think he might actually die. By the time the shift is over, he's almost too tired and sore to make it to the showers, and he moans softly when Cooper wraps an arm around him and guides him to his locker, leaning him against it.

He looks up at Cooper and swallows, swaying slightly. John's brow is furrowed and he looks pissed, like he wants to know who fucked with his partner, and it makes Ben laugh. Cooper's eyebrows go up and he almost smiles. "What the fuck is so funny?"

"You."

"Me?" There's so much in that one small syllable that Ben shivers with the implication. John could be mad or upset or angry or interested or amused and Ben makes the mistake of looking up at him. He's still a fucking rookie, and hiding what he's feeling isn't his strong suit. He's good at looking pissed off and he's good at looking pretty, but he doesn't know how to handle this look, how to look at Cooper.

"I want you to fuck me."

Cooper takes a step back and sits down hard on the wooden bench. Ben takes a moment to look around, realizing that he's not in the best place to talk about this, but they're alone for now, and he can't keep the words from tumbling out, wants them said as much as he wanted the dildo inside him the night before.

"I can take it. I want it. I want you." He squats down, wanting to go on his knees and nuzzle between John's legs, wanting to feel John's cock surge against his lips. "I've been fucking myself for weeks. My fingers, a dildo. I..." He puts his hands on John's knees and his arms shudder with the grip. "Fuck me."

"You're fucking nuts, kid." John stands up and shakes his head, shut off from Ben like he has a switch, like Ben just blew the circuit that keeps the heat running through John's veins. "Take a shower. Go home. You've got tomorrow off. Use it wisely."

Ben sinks down to the floor, legs spread and his arms on his knees, his back against the cold lockers. Humiliation burns as much as his body, and he waits until John's long gone before he even tries to make it back to his feet.

**

He's been home no more than ten minutes when his doorbell rings. He opens it without thinking and Cooper's there, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt that clings to his body like a second skin. Ben's dick hardens in response and he swallows hard. Cooper doesn't talk, just shoves his way in, slams the door shut and pins Ben to the wall, his tongue pushing into Ben's mouth like he knows that he owns it. Ben tries to climb him, not that there's much difference in their heights, but he wants to be on John, wants to cover him.

"Fucking..." John breaks off and kisses Ben again, tongue fucking Ben's mouth like Ben imagined it would. He can feel John's dick against his thigh, can feel it pulsing in time with the blood surging through Ben's veins. "Christ, kid." John pulls back, shoving himself away from Ben and paces the entryway like a caged animal. Ben watches him, not moving, not breathing until John looks at him and steps in again, _owning_ Ben with a hard, hungry, demanding kiss.

Ben wraps a leg around the back of both of John's and thrusts against him. He's making noises as he tries to suck on John's tongue, filthy, begging noises that make John thrust harder against him. Ben's hands grab at John's ass, squeezing hard and John curses under his breath, pushing Ben harder into the wall, lifting him slightly.

"More," Ben begs, rutting like a teenager against John. His zipper feels like it's going to split from the pressure of his dick and he bends his head, biting and sucking at John's neck in an effort to do _something_ , to find any kind of measure of relief. "More, John. Fuck. More."

Cooper pushes him away again and then jerks Ben against him. There's a flash of a moment where Ben sees him - Cooper's lips are wet and red, slightly swollen, and his eyes are practically black - and he can only imagine what he looks like to John. It ends quickly, when John's tongue is in his mouth again, fucking past Ben's lips and doing things with the tip of his tongue that make Ben moan and shudder, shivering on the edge of an orgasm.

"I'm too fucking old for this," Cooper growls, shoving Ben back, this time toward the bedroom instead of the wall. Ben goes without question, doing his best not to run ahead and strip, open himself up for John before he has a chance to change his mind. Cooper follows him though, shoving Ben whenever he gets too close. Ben’s breath is coming fast and hot in his lungs, his head is light from the lack of blood anywhere but his dick and the fact that oxygen seems to be burning up around him. “What have you done?”

“Noth…” Ben shakes his head rapidly and corrects himself. “Fingers. A d-dildo.”

“Jesus. Fucking amateur hour.” John’s hand snaps out and he undoes Ben’s jeans with quick precision. “You like fucking yourself?”

“Want you to fuck me.” The words sound as desperate in his ears as they are, and Ben tugs his shirt over his head. He loses a button somewhere, he hears it ping on the floor several times, but he doesn’t care. He scrabbles at his undershirt and jerks that off too until he’s naked from the waist up and his pants are barely hanging on his hips. His cock is painfully hard and John’s looking at him like some sort of specimen. “J-John.” His voice breaks and he can feel the blush staining his cheeks. “Please.”

“You’d better fucking have supplies, kid, or I’m dragging your naked ass through town behind my car.”

“I do. I do. Condoms. Lube. I have…” Ben surges forward and kisses John, wrapping himself around him as well as he can. His jeans are in the way, so he wriggles his hips until they fall to his feet, kicking them off with his shoes still caught inside the legs. His dick rubs against John’s the entire time, and he practically comes in his shorts just from the pressure. “Please.”

“Quit begging.” John shoves Ben down onto the bed, watching him bounce on the mattress. Without another word, he strips off Ben’s socks and then his briefs, looking at him lying there naked, everything hidden behind the cop exterior. When he speaks though, his voice is thick and he lets his gaze keep moving up and down, frank appreciation finally coming through. “Turn over.”

Ben wants John naked, wants everything _now_ , but he does as he’s told, hands fisting in the comforter and his knees spread apart. If he were standing, he’d be in the arresting position, the one they practiced in the Academy, and he flashes back to the movie, wondering if John would ever slap the cold steel of handcuffs on his wrists or if it would be the tight cut of the zip lines. He bites back a groan, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as John walks around the bed – still fully dressed – and opens the drawers of Ben’s nightstand.

“The Cop Killer.” John laughs and the sounds starts the relentless leaking of Ben’s dick, come seeping out the slit. “You had this in your ass?”

“Y-yes.” Ben watches the droplet shiver there against the head then turns his attention back to John. John’s holding the dildo, stroking it slowly, and Ben bites even harder at his lip, feeling the skin sliver and tasting blood. “I…I wanted…it was…” He licks his lips and his knuckles turn white against the dark blue cover. “Fuck…”

“Take good care of your toys?” John takes a step closer to the bed and rubs the dildo against Ben’s lower lip. Ben’s whole body shakes and he parts his lips, letting John slide it into his mouth. He closes his eyes, choking slightly, unable to stay still as John starts fucking his mouth with the toy, letting Ben get it wet and sloppy with saliva. John’s voice rolls over Ben like a rumble of thunder, low and rough and heavy. “Did you think about me fucking you when this was in your ass?”

Ben whimpers around the dildo, sucking it deeper. His hips roll and he can feel pre-come drip off the end of his dick, feel another drop of it gather at the slit. John’s free hand slides down Ben’s spine, tracing it down, fingers stilling at the crack of his ass. Ben presses back, wanting more.

John eases away then pulls the dildo from Ben’s mouth. He can feel his lips, tingling with the hint of numbness, swollen and puffy and wet. The dildo is covered in spit and John brings it back in to rub against Ben’s lips again. He licks the head, noises pooling in his throat and slipping out, rising an octave as John’s fingers slide down and press against the tightness of his sphincter.

“Swollen, aren’t you? Probably red and puffy from the fucking you gave yourself.” John sets the dildo on the edge of the nightstand so it’s just in Ben’s peripheral vision, just before he moves back out of Ben’s line of sight. Ben stiffens, wanting to turn his head, and then there’s a shift on the mattress, the feel of John’s knee sinking into it right between Ben’s spread legs. Heat melts through Ben as John’s hands grasp his ass, spreading it. “Oh yeah. Look at you.” He laughs roughly, the huff of it hot on Ben’s skin. “Look at that cherry ass of yours.”

“J-John.”

Cooper doesn’t respond, doesn’t say a word. Ben’s about to say something else when John’s tongue brushes the tender, swollen flesh. Ben jerks, his whole body spasming as John explores it, pressing at the sensitive skin, licking it, sucking it. Ben’s head falls forward before he snaps it back, trying to focus on staying upright as John keeps going, torturing Ben with his inconsistency, his refusal to give Ben steady pressure to lean back into. “Fuck,” John breathes and Ben shivers as the hot air brushes the cool, wet skin. John’s grip shifts on Ben’s ass, parting the flesh a bit more before his tongue presses against the muscle, penetrating past the tight ring and pushing inside Ben.

“Oh, fuck,” Ben gasps, head falling forward onto the mattress as he arches back against John’s mouth. His tongue is as relentless now as he refused to be moments before, fucking Ben and licking at him, wet and hot, tongue thrusting deep. “Jesus fucking…God, yes.”

“So fucking tight,” John breathes against his hole, tongue flicking against the puckered skin. “Can barely get my tongue in you, Sherman. How the fuck are you gonna take my cock? How’d you get that dildo inside you?”

“Please, John.” Ben’s words die off as there’s hard, firm pressure, John’s finger pushing inside him, soothed by the shock of lube, skin-warm from John’s body, and the steady laving of John’s tongue. He breathes roughly, gasping against the comforter, his eyes half-open and watching John’s finger slide in and out of him, his arm thrusting forward slowly. “Y-Yes. Fuck, yes. More.”

John ignores him for a few more moments, pushing his finger deeper several times before pressing a second one in. His fingers are thicker than Ben’s, and Ben can feel the difference, John’s two nearly equal to his three. John works them deep and then spreads them and Ben’s cock gives a hard jerk, drops falling from his dick and staining the covers dark. Ben’s body aches everywhere, muscles clenching as John slowly thrusts his fingers. He can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but the slow spread of his skin as John works him open.

Ben’s throat is thick, words stuck, and he just stares at John, watching as more lube drips down onto the bed and then John’s third finger is inside him and Ben can’t help but whimper. Every muscle is aching from being stretched again, from being worked open, even though John is moving glacially compared to how fast and how deep Ben took the dildo the night before. He lifts his head to see it, blue glinting in the glow from the streetlamps outside. He thinks about it inside him and then his head goes right back to John as John’s hand grabs Ben’s sac, rubbing lightly at his balls.

“You stopped talking. You still paying attention?”

Ben tries to laugh, but it comes out strangled and all he wants is John inside him. He can’t form words, so he thrusts back against John’s fingers. John’s teeth graze the curve of Ben’s ass and Ben’s whole body jerks. He closes his eyes against the burn and the pressure, bracing himself for whatever John can give him.

“Fuck,” John mutters under his breath and then Ben nearly falls face down on the bed as suddenly John’s fingers are _gone_. Ben sways forward, but John’s hands catch his hips and hold him, thumbs sweeping over the skin. “Don’t run away now.”

“Please.” Ben manages to bite the word out and John growls low in his throat, one of his hands moving away. There’s a rustle of cloth and the sound of a zipper and Ben’s brain struggles like a hamster on a wheel to process them, catching up about the time John’s got the condom on and his dick pressed against Ben’s ass. He rubs the tip over Ben’s opening and Ben can’t help but shake from the sensation, every nerve ending on fire. “P-Please.” The word trembles this time as he pushes back, wanting more than John’s cock pressed against him. He wants it deep. He wants everything.

“You’re killing me,” John whispers, pushing into him. John goes slow, but it still makes Ben gasp, his cock deflating at the pressure, the pain. He’d felt like a fucking freight train could ride through him when John had his fingers inside Ben’s ass, but now he feels like he’s never had anything inside him, like he can’t spread this wide, take this much. John’s barely two inches in and Ben’s panting roughly, mouth open to suck in as much air as he can take. “It’s okay. Relax. C’mon, Ben.” His hand strokes Ben’s back, rubbing along his spine and then centering on the small of his back, drawing small circles there. Ben loses himself in the sensation and his body unclenches and slowly John pushes in a little farther, inch by slow, agonizing inch.

John stops and Ben remembers to breathe, copying the rise and fall of John’s chest against his back. He’s draped over Ben and holding him, arm around his waist and the other hand splayed on Ben’s hip. He’s murmuring something that Ben can’t hear over the rush of blood in his ears and he can’t stop the groan as John eases back, pulling Ben with him so that Ben’s effectively sitting in John’s lap, thighs draped over John’s thighs. His arms feel like rubber and John’s so deep inside him, Ben thinks he might die from the pressure. “P-p-please.”

“Shh.” John nuzzles at Ben’s neck, mouth tasting the sweat that’s gathered on his skin. “Nice and slow. Relax. I’ve got you.” He has one hand still wrapped around Ben’s waist and the other is rubbing Ben’s thigh, stroking it gently, working its way up to Ben’s dick, which is hardening slowly as John begins rolling his hips, barely thrusting into Ben, but going deeper nonetheless. “I’ve got you.”

Ben closes his eyes, leaning back against John. He can’t stop trembling, his whole body shaking. John’s hand closes around his dick and begins stroking him, slow and steady. Without thinking Ben puts pressure on his knees and rises up, sinking down on John in the same rhythm. John groans softly and presses his forehead to Ben’s shoulder, his own hips joining in the slow grind.

Ben shivers, arching his back and starts moving in earnest, riding John’s lap steadily. John’s fingers tighten at his waist and he starts pumping Ben’s cock with his fist, letting Ben fuck it as he lifts up before sliding back down on John. Ben knows he’s babbling, unable to keep the fall of words from tripping out of his mouth - _yes_ , and _more_ , and _fuck_ , and _please_ , and _John_ \- until John tightens his grip on Ben’s waist even more and he shifts beneath him, and the world blacks out in a rush of pleasure as John’s dick presses against Ben’s prostate and he comes all over John’s hand and his own thighs.

Ben slumps there, breath falling past his parted lips, his body clenching around John without thought, the pulse of his orgasm sending another shockwave through Ben’s body. His cock jerks again in John’s hand and he can feel the dribble of come snake down his dick to John’s fist. John’s supporting him and Ben can only imagine that John’s legs are going numb, but moving means actually having muscles that work, a brain that can issue commands.

“You okay?” John murmurs in his ear and Ben can only nod dumbly, not sure that ‘okay’ is even close to what he is. John laughs softly and helps Ben to the bed, easing out of him and disposing of the condom, coming back from the bathroom with a towel he tosses on Ben’s stomach. He sits down and cleans Ben up, watching with unreadable eyes as Ben continues to shiver with reaction. “Sure you’re all right?”

Ben licks his dry lips and nods, swallowing before actually managing to make a sound. “Yeah.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” John traces Ben’s lower lip with his thumb. “Because if you thought today was bad, just wait until you try to walk tomorrow.”  



End file.
